


Damsel in Distress for Hire

by Quickspinner



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Bard!Luka, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, LBSC Sprint Fic Challenge, Mercenary!Marinette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:47:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28822431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner
Summary: Luka's favorite damsel in distress is in need of--not a rescue, but at the least, a ride.Written for the LBSC Sprint Fic challenge
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 18
Kudos: 109
Collections: LBSCSprintFicChallenge





	Damsel in Distress for Hire

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for the LBSC Sprint Fic challenge but a lot of life was going on at the time and I just didn't have the time to edit it the way it needed, and I just now got around to polishing it up to where I was satisfied with it. The rules of the challenge are 45 minutes to write and 24 hours to edit, but it's been weeks and I had to add a lot and change a lot to make it work. So, a sprint fail, but still a fun story. 
> 
> The prompt was Bard from mlweekly prompt (I think, lol...it's been so long I'm not totally sure of the wording)

Luka reined in Sass before the gelding could clear the shadows of the trees, and eyed the keep tower with some satisfaction. It stood alone on a hill, with ground cleared around it and a wall around the courtyard, and only a single tower rising out of the fortifications. It looked like their information had been good, then. Their opponent didn’t have a large force, hence their underhanded approach. They were depending on the seclusion of this place to keep them safe, and not strength of arms. That made him breathe a sigh of relief. He of all people knew how much harm misinformation could do, and though he had done everything in his power to be sure of his information, there always was that worry in the back of his mind. 

Luka urged Sass forward at a walk. 

“Hail and well met!” he called cheerfully, waving. “I am but a single traveler, of no threat to you!” He dismounted from Sass and spread his arms wide, hands far from the rapier hanging at his side. The guards exchanged a look, but didn’t move. 

“I am a minstrel on my way from the capital to cities in the south,” Luka said, with a little bow that still kept his hands well clear of his weapon. “I’ve been travelling all night to get through these woods, and as I’ve stumbled on you here, I was hoping I could perhaps share your fire and the protection your company would afford me from the local dregs so that I may take a short rest in peace? I have some goods of my own that are better shared, if you would be so kind to allow me to sup with you.” He leaned over and reached into his saddlebag and pulled out a large bottle that glinted appealingly in the sunlight.

The guardsmen exchanged grins with each other, and invited him at once to come and share their watch, on the condition that he give them all the news he had and play a little for their entertainment. 

“Shall I not be detaining you from your duties?” Luka asked, glancing up at the Keep as he tethered Sass. “I’ve no wish to get you in trouble, nor be chased away for causing undue distraction.” He winked at the guards, who chuckled. 

“It’s light duty today,” one of them said easily, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Any force large enough to breach it will be seen from the tower long before we spy it from here, and nothing here to tempt anyone except a fine lady who barely even had any baggage. Come and give us the news!” 

It was amazing, Luka reflected to himself as he sat down, opening the bottle and pouring generous measures into the cups they they held out for him, what you could get away with when you carried a lute and some good wine.

“Aye, she was a nice one to look at though,” the second guard observed with a sigh. “I was on duty when they escorted her in this morning. A highborn lady, that, worth her weight I’m sure. Not that the higher ups tell us much.” His companion elbowed him and gave him a dark look, before turning back to waggle bushy eyebrows at Luka. 

“Ye seen many pretty ladies?” he asked, and a smile twitched at Luka’s mouth at the obvious attempt to deflect the conversation. “Bet ye have, a court songbird like you.” 

“Oh, many,” Luka agreed, hiding his distaste at the epithet. Court songbird, indeed. “Duchesses and princesses and high court ladies of every kind, but there is only one lady that holds my heart, no matter how much my eyes may wander.” He winked and the two men guffawed. Luka disguised a roll of his eyes with another deep drink from his cup. He’d been around this type enough to know what kind of humor they enjoyed. Luka turned his eyes up in the direction of the keep, hiding his scrutiny behind a dreamy expression. 

“My lady is as lovely as any princess I’ve ever seen,” Luka continued. “Clumsy, sometimes, but all the more joy in catching her, ey?” Another round of laughter. “She has beautiful dark hair, and the sweetest, most beguiling eyes you’ve ever seen, and her mouth was carved by the gods.” He sighed longingly. “And I’ve been apart from her much too long. I’m on my way back to her now, and I appreciate you sharing your fire with a lonely minstrel.” 

“There, there,” the taller man said, not without genuine sympathy, and patted Luka’s shoulder roughly. “Ye’ll be with her again soon, no doubt.” 

Luka looked toward the Keep gates and smiled as shouts began to rise in the courtyard. “I do believe you’re right,” he said, finishing the last of his cup. “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen, but my lady awaits. I leave you this medicinal powder and my sincerest apologies for the headache you’re going to have in the mornings.” 

He set a small pouch on the ground, where it would be in plain sight of the men who had just slumped to the ground, unconscious. 

Luka tsked as he picked up their empty cups and examined the residue at the bottom. “More than enough to keep them out most of the day,” he murmured with satisfaction. He leaned back against his pack and waited.

Eventually, the heavy keep doors swung open, and a petite figure in a lovely velvet red dress came striding out. Luka couldn’t help his smile, or the sigh of relief and longing that passed his lips. 

She caught sight of him and scowled, completely ignoring the passed out guards that lay on the ground. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded. 

“Well met, to you as well, Marinette,” Luka laughed. His roguish smile made a mockery of his courtly bow. 

“Why are you here?” she asked again, crossing her arms. “You were supposed to wait in the capital.”

“I am no court bard, to find inspiration in perfume and flattery and empty love affairs,” Luka sniffed affectedly. “I am a seeker of adventure, and I follow my heart.”

“You dog my heels,” Marinette accused, reaching down to pull out the hidden ribbon she had worked into her gown. The dress split on the sides, and Marinette straightened, rolling the ribbon carefully around her fingers even as she glared at him. “Admit it.”

“Admit that you have my heart? Gladly.” Luka swept a bow, and Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Don’t flatter me,” she snorted. “You’re not any good at it.” 

“Shall I compliment you instead?” Luka asked pointedly, and Marinette blushed, looking away. His compliments were always far worse than his flattery, because he meant them. 

“Don’t change the subject. You were worried about me,” she accused, waving a dagger like an admonitionary finger. “I can handle myself.” 

“You can handle yourself, and me as well,” Luka grinned, and then softened his tone, dropping his courtly pretense. “But I’m always worried about you. That proves nothing except that I care about you.” He held up a furled parchment between them. “However, this is actually why I’m here. I also bring Lady Kagami’s thanks and her appreciation for your very convincing performance of a helpless highborn princess being carried off, although she feels it wasn’t a very accurate imitation of her.” 

Marinette snorted. “Kagami could have easily handled these idiots herself if her mother wasn’t such a stick in the mud. It probably would have been more entertaining for everyone if they  _ had _ managed to kidnap her.” She sheathed her dagger and took the parchment, unrolling it as she added, “I hope she sent her payment as well as her thanks.” Her lips pursed as she read, and then pushed out in a pout as she looked up at him. “Okay. That’s a good reason.” 

“No point in riding all the way back just to traverse the exact same route again,” Luka agreed. “And since I was coming all this way, why not meet you at the door? I’ve stashed our supplies in a nice little campsite far enough away from this mess,” he gestured at the tower. “We can spend the night and set out in the morning.”

“We?” Marinette asked, eyebrows raising. Luka shrugged.

“I’ve no mind to let you get that far away from me for that long,” he told her, only half joking. “I’m sure there’s a noble house somewhere in the city looking for entertainment, and if not—” Luka shrugged. “Then there’s certain to be a tavern."

Marinette grimaced. “I don’t like it when you play taverns,” she muttered. “You’re far too good for that.”

“We take the pay where it comes,” Luka reminded her, plucking the parchment from her hand and tucking it back in his saddlebag.

“It doesn’t have to come with tavern wenches hanging all over you,” Marinette complained. 

Luka barked a laugh. “The noble ladies are just as bad, only more subtle,” he chuckled, mounting his horse. He extended a hand down to Marinette. “Shall we? I’m sure Tikki’s getting hungry.” 

Marinette looked up at his tall gelding and sighed. “I can get up myself,” she muttered, but she let Luka grip her wrist to give her a little extra boost. She landed across Sass on her belly with a small grunt, and then scrambled into place behind Luka. She could see the curve of his smile just before he faced forward. 

“I’m glad you’re coming with me,” she murmured into his shoulder blades. “And I’ll gut anyone who touches you.”

“My thanks, my gallant lady protector,” Luka said, patting the hands clasped around his waist. “I need fear nothing as long as you are with me, except the hour of parting.”

Marinette huffed, her breath tickling his neck. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Luka looked over his shoulder and winked. “If my heart grew much fonder of you, you would never be rid of me.” 

Marinette was silent for a moment, and then said, “Maybe I don’t want to be.” She said it very quietly, and held her breath after. Luka’s big hand covered hers again, his thumb caressing the back.

“Then maybe you should say yes the next time I propose,” came the teasing answer, and Marinette’s mouth dropped in outrage. 

“You propose every time we pass a church!” she scoffed. 

“Yes,” Luka agreed shamelessly. “How many churches do you think there are between here and  _ the Jewel of the Southern Wastes _ ?” 

“Not enough to convince me to marry you,” Marinette shot back. “I like the way things are.” 

"As do I," Luka chuckled.

Marinette sniffed. "I knew you weren't serious."

"Of course I am. I will wed you the moment you say the word. But if you are content, then so am I."

"You're infuriating, you know that?" Marinette huffed. 

“There, there,” Luka laughed, patting her hand before putting his own back on the reins. “We’ve a long way to go to get there, and through some pretty sketchy territory. Maybe if you’re really lucky, we’ll get robbed.”

“You think?” Marinette perked up. “Bandits?”

“Possibly even  _ ruffians _ ,” Luka teased, and laughed when she smacked his shoulder. 

“Ruffians are always broke,” Marinette complained. “I want bandits. I’m going to have to buy new dresses when we get there, I can’t wear dresses from the Northern court in the South. I’d look ridiculous.” Her eyes widened slightly. “Luka, what did you do with my dresses? You didn’t pack them yourself, did you? They’re much too delicate—”

“I had them professionally packed and sealed and sent to Lady Alya for safekeeping,” Luka reassured her. “I would never dare let harm come to your wardrobe.” 

Marinette slumped in relief. “Oh, good.” After a moment she added, “Thank you.”

Luka lifted one of her hands from his waist and kissed the palm softly. 


End file.
